


Bathtime

by thehotinpsychotic



Category: BBC Sherlock, Moriarty - Fandom, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes - fandom, john watson - Fandom, johnlock - Fandom
Genre: M/M, NC-17, Smut, explicit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 07:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehotinpsychotic/pseuds/thehotinpsychotic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has to help an injured Sherlock with his bath.<br/>WARNING: SMUT!</p><p>My Tumblr-------> www.these-wounds-will-scar-me.tumblr.com</p><p>Comments/suggestions/asks are welcome!!<br/>Check out my other fics!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bathtime

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry its so short. This was originally a Johnlock cross dressing fic, but it felt too forced, so I just made some bubbly fun.

“Ouch! Ow- John- OW!” Sherlock yelped.  
John sighed as he ran a comb through the detective’s thick and curly mane. “I can’t believe you never comb your hair,” he muttered.  
“I told you- tease- OW! – Fluff- OW! And finish with a spritz,” Sherlock insisted. “Not yank through it with harsh bristles that only make it more prone to breakage.”  
“Well, you’re the one with a broken arm and bashed up face, so I decide how to do your hair until that right paw is healed up,” John retorted.  
“Moriarty,” Sherlock scowled. He had been chasing the criminal when he was hit by a Jaguar. No, not the jungle cat, the vehicle. It snapped his right arm at the elbow, shattered his leg, gave him a nasty concussion, and left his face bruised and scraped.  
“Wait.” John stopped brushing. He sat there frozen, lost in thought.  
“What?” Sherlock demanded. He was secretly glad John had stopped brushing.  
“Sherlock, I only mean this as a concerned nurse, but when did you last bathe?” John asked. He could tell as he was pulling the brush through Sherlock’s locks that it was stringy and tough with grease.  
“Hmm…. At the hospital,” Sherlock replied, remembering the busty young nurse who’d bathed him. She almost seemed upset when Sherlock didn’t break out in a giant erection.  
“Sherlock that’s disgusting!” John exclaimed.  
“Well I can’t stand, John, just tell me how I’m supposed to shower,” Sherlock snapped.  
John scoffed. “You’re the most genius person I know and you couldn’t figure out that maybe someone should help you take a bath?”  
Sherlock felt his ears redden, but covered this up with a disgusted expression. “I don’t want you to touch me when I’m naked.”  
John frowned. “No, stay in your skivvies. I don’t want me to, either.”  
Sherlock sat in the tub in his black boxer briefs, a massive frown printed on his face.  
John laughed as he rubbed a soaped up sponge lightly over Sherlock’s bony shoulder. “You know you’re not helping making this any less awkward.”  
Sherlock refused to laugh. He was afraid that John would be able to see that he didn’t mind the bath. That, in truth, he liked it just about as much as he liked John.  
John sighed and pulled the sponge over Sherlock’s collarbone. He looked up at him. “Tell me if anything hurts too much too wash.”  
Sherlock gave a nod, knowing that his face probably fell into that category. He squirmed in the water. His underwear was really uncomfortable to wear when he was soaking wet. A big part of him wanted to pry them off, but a bigger part of him knew how much that would freak John out. The only thing making this not weird was a piece of cloth.  
John bit his lip to suppress a moan as he dragged the sponge across Sherlock’s chest. His slim, delicate body was almost enough to make him cum all over himself. And that adorable little way he would knit his brows at him? He loved it. Wait, what? He can’t do this again. He pushed the filthy thoughts from his head. Sherlock was his friend, and John was straight. It couldn’t happen, and that’s why it won’t.  
Sherlock carefully studied John, who seemed to be having an internal battle over something very serious. Sherlock looked over his friend, quickly realizing what John was so riled up about.  
He was questioning his sexuality.  
With the assurance that John was at least considering fucking his brains out, Sherlock silently slipped out of his underwear, holding them underwater in his hands. He wanted to wait for John’s attention before he revealed the boxer briefs, signaling he was ready for some action.  
When he realized that that wasn’t going to happen, he let out a breathy, “John.”  
John looked at him expectantly.  
With a huge grin, Sherlock raised his drenched underwear out of the bath water.  
John’s mouth fell open. Sherlock made a comical mocking expression before smirking and tossing the garment to the tile floor.  
John leaped into the bath, greedily sucking on Sherlock’s chest. It hurt like Hell when John was tonguing the bruises, but it felt so good too that Sherlock didn’t mind. He just moaned and gripped John’s ass with his uninjured hand to keep from slipping beneath the water’s surface.  
John sat up, towering over Sherlock as he pulled off his sweater. He struggled to undo his jeans, fumbling with the button and trying hard to pull them down in his position. Sherlock batted his hands away and pulled the pants down to John’s knees. He smiled warmly at John’s red briefs before ridding of those, too. He stared at John’s dick for a moment, hard and wet in his face, before taking it in his mouth whole.  
John threaded his fingers through Sherlock’s drenched hair as he moaned, loudly mustering “Sherlock…. Oh…. Don’t stop…”  
Sherlock worked the smooth length around in his mouth, flicking his tongue across certain spots that he knew would feel particularly good to a man of John’s personality.  
John came into Sherlock's mouth, hard and fast.  
Sherlock swallowed and reached his hand down to stroke his own dick, hard with neglect. He slowed his pace as John came down from his climax, shuddering and shivering. Once he was done, Sherlock spit out John’s cock, watching it, still a little hard, float in the water. He looked up at John, who was flushed and sweaty, and grinned.  
John finally met Sherlock’s eyes. He smiled back and asked, “Your cock doesn’t hurt too much to wash, does it?”


End file.
